Healing

Surprises and losses

So my medical appointment revealed a medical marvel: my bones had completely healed.  This is really “one for the books” since bone healing simply does not occur before 6-8 weeks post injury – even in kids.  There is no medical explanation.  I was ordered to start PT immediately and I no longer have a cast; rather, a walking boot.

The boot, while removable, has proven to be awkward and challenging to put on and take off.  So by and large, I’ve been sock-footed.  I’ve been too uneasy to spend much time really bearing weight on my bad led as I fear falling.  It’s getting better each day.  And for the record, apparently Physical Therapists are obliged to read and take to heart 50 Shades of Gray as they seem to delight in mild torture.  But it’s working.

Up this morning at 4:30am due to a muscle spasm in my back and contemplating the news that my brother is now in the last stages of hepatic encephalopathy.  He’s agitated, confused, combative and my sister in law wants no one to come and help.  Not that I could easily come with the wheelchair, walker and all – but she is shutting out all of the sisters.  I understand this is her husband.  But others have had a role in his life and to leave us without goodbyes or even the knowledge that we contributed some small thing to his comfort is a bit surreal.  I suppose the expectation is to leave him to die and then come and show up at the funeral – which to me is so totally pointless.  And I don’t think I’m motivated sufficiently to actually do it.  My poor husband would bear most of the burden of the work of managing my mobility.  I’m still thinking about it.  I’ll have to think fast because last report was that no one thought he would last the weekend. He’ll not see his 65th birthday next month.  Funny, the disease that started all this 25 years ago promised to take his life in 10 years. I guess getting 15 bonus years is nothing to complain about.

I only hope that he passes through this stage and beyond quickly.  I do not know what happens after death.  I will only acknowledge that it makes no sense for us to have these complicated, amazing, emotion filled existences for no reason.  I am inclined to believe that there is some continuity beyond death, though what form that takes is beyond my understanding.  Not understanding it, however, doesn’t make it untrue.

So this fall starts in a fog of loss and a limbo of uncertainty about how fast  I will recover.

Cliff’s notes on July 2016 to date

So…. I made it home from California.  I cried in the plane going home.  I wanted to stay and escape everything.  The only thing that got me on that plane was the promise of a week at the beach a mere 7 days after my return – the opportunity to see both coasts in the same week.

Came home to a husband concerned about my state of mind.  We had some heart-to-heart talks and made promises to make changes.  And that was going to happen – just not how I planned.

I headed south to the beach with 2 kids.  For the 2nd year running I had a beach house for 16 with 3 people in it.  Ok – 4 when hubby came for 3 days of the week.  Fine – I made the most of more time contemplating all the great life-changing things I was going to do.

Life changed the morning I left.  I was up early, before coffee and the sun, to beat the traffic out of this heavily traveled resort area.  Woke the kids, had 99% of the car packed.  Shut off the last landing stairwell light.  One kid behind me – another in front, and I missed the last landing step.  Damned bifocals were exactly level with the edge of my view of the step and I assumed I had arrived at the landing.  I fell, my left foot and leg twisting under me, my head slamming into the wall.  Pain was instant and shocking.  Kids later said they had never seen me cry before that day.  Probably true.

5 minutes of writhing in pain later, I realized I had to make the 3 hour drive home alone.  There was no logic in having anyone come down to get me.  None in going to the local ER for treatment where my insurance would not cover anything.  So the kids bolstered me up, I hopped down the remaining steps.  They locked the beach house.  I drove so they could drop off the keys.  Then off we went, my leg locked in position while I drove first to drop off kid #1 then kid #2 then on to the ER where my limited insurance would provide superior care with the lowest possible out-of-pocket costs.

Called hubby en route.  He met me in the ER – having gotten a ride with a neighbor.  Diagnosis – badly broken ankle and knee.  Too damaged for surgery that day.  Sent home with some narcotics and a plan to see an orthopaedic surgeon on that Monday.  Saw him – he scheduled surgery for Thursday.  Had surgery – sent home same day (more about that later).  I’m now 3 1/2 weeks post op.  I’ve dealt with being totally unable to help myself do anything, including managing the bathroom (all of it) to dressing myself, to getting my own food and drink.  Doing better now with wheelchair, but still totally dependent on husband.  Apparently, this particular knee injury is devastating alone, let alone in conjunction with needing a 8in plate and 12 screws in your leg/ankle.  I’ll be non-weight bearing for 8-10 weeks and then will start learning how to walk on this puppy again.  Total rehab from what I can tell in the online forums is a shocking 4-22 months.  People still have pain and swelling for years afterwards.

How’s that for change?  At this point I’m sick of sitting.  But when I stand, the swelling takes over pretty quickly.  I’ve been back at work for about 2 1/2 weeks (no choice), and sitting all day without elevation is really no good.  Working on fixing that.

Net effect:  More change is coming.  Thinking of selling some of my stake in the company to free myself up and to put the business into a good position for my exit.  If I’m in for a long rehab, I still have a million things on my bucket list.   I’ll share notes from the plane ride back from California soon.